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Even if he is sincere, his loyalties lie elsewhere. I’ve spent my life deceiving others and dodging the truth—I recognize a non-answer when I hear it. If he’s not one hundred percent here for Aurora, then he needs to get the fuck out.
I pick up my phone and lean back in my chair. “How about I call Kyle to join this conversation? Then you can ask him everything you want to know.”
Ethan sucks in a deep, exasperated breath. “Jax,” he snarls in warning. “What the fuck are you doing?”
With the number dialed, I turn the screen to face Aurora’s supposed bodyguard. The room goes silent, and the first ring echoes. Ricky rubs his jaw, his hand covered in tattooed roses to conceal the scars marring his skin. It rings once more, our eyes locked in an intense stare-down.
“Son?”
Kyle answers, Ricky lunges for the phone, and Ethan dives between us, snatching Ricky’s arm and preventing him from reaching me.
I hang up. That’s all the confirmation I need.
“You’re crazy, you know that?” Ricky’s chest heaves.
Gaslighting. Yet another one of my father’s favorite weapons. They’re all the same.
“First, you think I’m after Aurora, and now, what? Kyle?”
Ice runs through my veins, my voice and fury escalating to a whole new level. “Oh my fucking God. Are you even gay?”
Ricky, or whatever his actual name is, glances at Ethan, and I know I’ve caught him. This is the reason I’m paranoid—I can’t even trust my bodyguard not to betray me.
“That’swhat you’re worried about right now?” he scoffs, daring to turn this around on me.
It grates on my last nerve.
“Yes, motherfucker, that’s exactly what I’m worried about. A lying pig with no integrity taking advantage of what’s mine. Nothing is stopping you from eye fucking her while she’s undressing or touching her.” My body quakes with anger, begging to be let loose. “You’re not her bodyguard—you’re here because you’re after me!”
His brows shoot up, and he raises his hands in surrender, palms outward, fingers splayed. “No. That’s not why I’m here?—”
“Then why didn’t you approach me?” My breaths grow shallow, my vision tunneled. “Why carry on this charade? You’ve read my history, right?”
A hand clutches the back of my neck, and my skin burns. I knock it away. A deep voice speaks, but I’m not there anymore.
After all this time, after all the abuse I’ve endured—myself and my mother—someone steps in, but it’s not to help. It’s to use me.
To manipulate me for their own benefit.
They didn’t want to stop Kyle or any of the others when we were being fucking terrorized.
Ricky’s face softens, and there it is.Pity.
I no longer see him—I see rage.
I see the anguish in my mother’s eyes as she suffered trying to shield me, then the disappointment when I ultimately proved to be no better than the monster who tormented her.
Every officer who apprehended me and never once questioned my behavior beyond being a spoiled punk. Annoyed teachers who demanded my removal from their classrooms. Principals who delighted in punishing me—one even belonging to Kyle’s band of sick fucks. Cops who attended my mother’s funeral, eyes filled with guilt.
Intoxicated men who put their hands on me with that predatory gleam in their smiles.
I pounce, catching the corner of the table with my side. A sharp pain flares, but Ricky goes to the floor, the chair tipping and crashing beside him.
It’s dark again, the demons laughing, the child crying.
He struggles beneath me. He’s tough, but I’ve faced tougher.
I feel nothing but violence. The room spins. I grip his throat, put all my weight into it, and squeeze, refusing to let go.